Son Of My Right Hand
by purplepagoda
Summary: Gemma Teller Morrow, is not the only one capable of keeping decades old secrets. It seems as if John Teller has a few secrets to share with her, from the grave. Or, could it all be a ruse, to play on Gemma's worst fears?
1. Package

He pulls into the driveway. He pulls in, behind a black Cadillac. His car, too is black. He stares through the window of his car, for quite some time. It's almost exactly the way he remembers it. From the front yard, to the front door. It's dark, and his headlights have been off for some time.

He turns the car back on, and backs out of the driveway. He stops at the mailbox, and drops a package inside. He puts the car in drive, and speeds away, hoping that he's gone unnoticed.

Gemma finds the envelope in the mail, the following day. Her name is written across the front of the envelope. She takes the pile of mail into the house, with her. She drops it on the counter. She opens the envelope with no stamp, or return address, first.

Inside she finds a sheet of paper, folded in half. She momentarily ignores what falls out of the letter. The piece of paper is not even a letter. She reads it to herself, and furrows her brow, in confusion. _County Record:228765_, is scrawled in the center of the paper. She looks at the counter, and reaches for the item that fell out of the paper.

It's a picture. She scrutinizes it. Two identical boys stand in the picture, side by side. She stares at it, in confusion. She turns it over to see if there is anything written on it. Before her brain can even process what it says, she realizes that it's written in John's handwriting. She swallows hard, and takes a second look. _Thomas (L) Benjamin (R)-March 1989._

She drops the picture on the floor, and clasps her hand over her mouth. Suddenly she feels as if she's going to be sick. Then she recalls the piece of paper. She folds it up, and places it in her purse. She heads to the county municipal building.

She waits in line. Finally after fifteen minutes the woman standing out the counter is able to process her request. She waits, impatiently at the counter, for her to return. Gemma drums her fingers on the surface of the counter.

"Ma'am," the clerk returns, "I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

"I need those records."

"I understand, but those records have been missing, since 1993."

"John," she mutters under her breath, and stomps off.

Later that night, she's sitting at the dinner table, thinking of the items from earlier in the day, that are now safely tucked away in her hat boxes, along with her guns. She looks up from her plate, and notices headlights, outside the window. The stop for a moment, and then disappear, into the night. Without a word, she leaves the table, and heads for the door.

"Where are you going?" Clay inquires.

"I forgot to check the mail earlier."

"Can't it wait?"

"I'm waiting on a package," she lies.

He rolls his eyes, and continues to eat his dinner. She leaves the house. She steps outside, with her car keys, in hand. She makes her way down the sidewalk, stopping at the mailbox. She reaches in, and pulls out the envelope. She unlocks her car, and climbs in.

Once she's safely locked in her car, she turns on the dome light, and tears into the package. She pulls out a piece of paper. She stares at the copy, of the legal document. She begins to read it. The details aren't right. She looks at the name, on the copy of the birth certificate. Her heart skips a beat.

It reads; _Benjamin Gabriel Teller._ For a moment, she considers that it's some sort of typo, some clerical error. But, as she continues to read, she realizes that it's not. All of the birth details, are different. They are inconsistent with Thomas's.

She hides the document under her seat, and climbs out. She heads back inside. She clears the table, without a word to Clay. By the time she makes it to bed, he's already snoring.

By the time that she wakes up in the morning, Clay is already gone. She gets dressed, and starts to head for the office, but she feels herself being pulled back in. She stops in the hallway, and stares at the picture on her wall. The picture of Jackson, and Thomas. She freezes on Thomas's smile. A gap, on the bottom row. As if he's missing a tooth.

"It's not the right tooth," she says to herself.

She shakes off the sense of impending doom, and forces herself to go to the office, that morning. She remains distracted, the entire day. She is able to make it to dinner, without being questioned.

She sits down at the dinner table, and Clay furrows his brow.

"Something on your mind?" she questions.

"I could ask you the same."

"No, why do you ask?"

"You've been quiet, all day."

"So?"

"You're never quiet. You always have something to say."

"I'm just tired."

"You came to bed pretty late last night."

"Sorry."

"Did your package come?"

"Um, no."

"Gemma, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she lies.

"You're going to have to do better than that, if you're going to convince me."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then, history says, you probably should."

"Were you at the hospital when Thomas was born?"

"No. No one but John was. We all got there afterwards."

"Why?"

"No reason."

"It was an emergency c-section, and it was over, by the time that we got there."

"Oh."

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking about it today."

"Why?"

"I don't know, something just made me think about it, I guess."

"Don't you remember?"

"No," she replies honestly.

"No?"

"They put me under. They didn't want to take any chances that my heart would go into an irregular rhythm."

"So you don't remember any of it?"

"I had a terrible reaction to the drugs that they gave me. I remember waking up, when he was two days old."

"Gemma, is something going on, that I should know about?"

"No, why?"

"You don't usually bring him up."

"He's just been on my mind, lately, that's all."


	2. You've Been Served

He pulls into the driveway. He knows that he has to act fast. He pulls on his sunglasses, and grabs the manila envelope on his passenger's seat. He climbs out of the car, and makes a beeline for the front door. He knocks on the door, and looks at his watch.

Gemma opens the door. She takes a look at the tall, blonde man, standing on her front porch. She waits for him to say something, but he doesn't.

"Can I help you?"

He holds out a package, "Ma'am, you've been served."

"What for?"

"I just deliver the papers," he replies, and walks away. He jumps in his car, and backs out of the driveway. He speeds away.

She watches the black car speed off. She stands in the doorway, dumbfounded. She sighs, and heads into the house, to find her glasses. She puts them on, and takes a look at the front of the package. She furrows her brow, when she realizes that she's just been duped. Her name is the only thing written on the package.

She rips it open, and pulls out the papers inside. She takes a look at the paper. Before she begins to read, she realizes that this is a copy of an original. She pushes her glasses back on her nose, and begins to read.

_Son,_

_I know that you're young, and you don't understand everything that's going on. One day you will. I don't want you to have to lead the same life I have. The same life your brother, Jackson will. He's too much like me, for his own good. He, managed to inherit all of the bad traits, on my side, and your mother's. You, seemed to have gotten all the good, for the most part, anyway. _

_Love you,_

_Dad._

She swallows hard, realizing that the handwriting is John's. It's not dated. She puts that page aside, and moves on to the next.

_Son,_

_Hopefully you are an adult, when you read this letter. Then, maybe you will have the maturity to understand. I sent you away, because I didn't want any harm to come of you. The day you were born, was one of the scariest days of my life. You, and your brother were both so small, and so fragile. You, were a surprise. We didn't know that you were hiding in there. You were in worse shape, and they had to send you away, to a children's hospital. And, that is when I decided, I might not be able to save both of you, but I would try. _

_I never told your mother, about you. You know this, as when you see her, she calls you by your brother's name. Thanks for being such a sport, about the whole thing. More letters will follow._

_Love,_

_Dad._

She places that page aside, and turns to the next. The handwriting is different. She swallows hard, when she begins to read.

_Mom,_

_You don't even know I exist. I was taken from you, when I was just minutes old. I was identical to my brother. When you did see me, you had no idea. It's been too long. I'll be back. Maybe, this time, I'll be brave enough to come in._

_Love,_

_Benjamin._

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of her cell phone ringing. She reaches for her phone.

"Hello?" her voice is shaky.

"Where are you? I need you in here."

"I'm on my way."

"You ok?"

"Fine," she lies.

"See you when you get here."

She leaves the house, and climbs into her car. So many thoughts run through her mind. She pulls out of the driveway, and heads for the shop.

"You should really check your backseat, before you lock the door," a voice behind her suggests.

She pulls into a vacant parking lot. She puts the car into park, and kills the engine.

"Who are you, and how did you get into my car?"

"I have a lot of skills," he answers.

She looks at him, closely. She shakes her head.

"You're the chicken shit that ran off, earlier."

"Yes, I am."

"How do I know that any of this is true? Things don't stay secret for that long, around here."

"In your world, they do."

"Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"No."

"It seems that way."

"It's not."

"How do I know that I can trust you? I have know idea who you are."

He takes his sunglasses off. He stares at her, with big, bright eyes.

"Because, we've met before."

"I think that I would remember."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I look much different now. My hair is much darker. I have a tan, I don't look quite so pasty, and sick. I am several feet taller, and I weigh a lot more. The last time I saw you, I was about six."

"Stop, this is not funny. I don't know who you are, or what you want, but making a mockery of my son's death, is not ok."

"Gemma, I am not making a mockery of anything."

"I don't believe any of this."

"Then why are you so worked up? If you don't believe any of it, why are you allowing a stranger to remain in the backseat of your car? If you didn't think that you knew who I was, you would never allow me to be here. You would have kicked my ass out, and probably shot me, by now. You wouldn't be holding a conversation with me."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Benjamin."

"No," she shakes her head.

"I'm Benjamin, I am your son."

"I don't believe you."

"That's why they invented DNA."


End file.
